


The Sun's Rays Do Not Burn (until Brought to a Focus)

by rosewiththorns



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Consequences, Detroit Red Wings, Discipline, Focus, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kneeling, Kneeling Universe, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Spanking, hard work, mentoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4958131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewiththorns/pseuds/rosewiththorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank is not focused, and Steve is determined to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun's Rays Do Not Burn (until Brought to a Focus)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set during Hank's rookie year.

“Concentrate all your thoughts upon the work at hand. The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.” 

The Sun’s Rays Do not Burn (until Brought to a Focus) 

Steve Yzerman was self-aware enough to know that he was showing the lack of focus that he was about to force himself to discipline Hank for, because he had already checked the gold number hanging from the hotel room Hank was sharing with Pavel twice. This was definitely the right room, but instead of knocking, he was standing on the plush corridor carpet, straining to hear through the mahogany the commentary of what sounded like an Animal Planet documentary on Great White Sharks. 

The TV shifting from a discussion of the Great White Shark’s ability to detect blood in water from almost unfathomable distances to a commercial for Natural Balance Dog Food spurred Steve into raising his fist to knock on the door. Steeling himself for a likely difficult conversation with a Hank who had been as stubborn as mildew all week, Steve waited a second for the door, and, somewhat to his relief, it was Pavel who opened the door, thus granting Steve potentially as much as a minute’s reprieve from confronting Hank. 

“Pav.” Steve figured he would spare Pavel the struggle of speaking first, because Pavel’s English was still in very rough phases of development. “Is Hank in?” 

Nodding, Pavel stepped aside and opened the door further to reveal Hank, who was sprawled on the foot of his king bed, staring at a commercial for tick remover as if it was the most riveting thing in the universe. 

“I want to talk to him,” Steve went on, as much for Hank’s benefit as for Pavel’s, since Steve sensed that Hank was listening to every word even though he was projecting the image of being utterly enthralled by the commercials on the TV. 

He didn’t add the “alone” because he didn’t want to sound as if he were kicking Pavel out of his own hotel room, but Pavel—probably more dependent on picking up the undercurrent of people’s words in America because he couldn’t understand their English very well—reached for a coat hanging from a hook on the door and remarked softly as he slipped into it, “Brett say gardens great place for walk. Maybe I see if he right.” 

“That’s a good idea.” As Pav passed him to head down the hallway to the elevator banks, Steve gave him an affectionate clap on the shoulder before stepping into the hotel room and shutting the door firmly in his wake. 

Seeing some paperback with a Russian title lying open-faced with its pages pressed against Pavel’s comforter, Steve decided to give Hank a few extra seconds to prepare himself and switch off the stupid commercials. To prevent the binding of Pavel’s book from getting destroyed, Steve grabbed a bookmark from the nightstand next to Pavel’s bed and slid it between the open pages before flipping the book closed with a rustle of pages. 

Realizing as he set the novel back down on Pavel’s comforter that the stream of commercials was still polluting the room, Steve scowled and marched over to rap Hank on the head with his knuckles, ordering in a tone as crisp as crystalized snow as he sat on the bed next to Hank, “Turn off the talking box. I’m speaking to you.” 

“I’m listening, Captain.” Despite his words, Hank’s eyes were fixed on an annoyingly perky woman extolling the merits of Greenies treats. 

“I told you to turn the TV off.” His glower deepening in a manner that usually caused Hank to take on an appropriately chastened demeanor but this time had no visible impact on the rebellious rookie before him, Steve snatched the remote control out of Hank’s hand and switched off the television. Hoping to help Hank recognize the gravity of the situation with a use of his full name, he commanded tersely, “Kneel, Henrik.” 

His teeth gritting in a fashion that typically indicated he had the bit between them, Hank grunted, “I don’t feel like it, Stevie.” 

“Tough luck. I told you to kneel now, not whenever you feel like it.” Steve delivered a swat designed to sting through denim to the seat of Hank’s jeans as much to reprimand his rookie as to propel him into motion. “Kneel now or you’ll be sorry you didn’t.” 

“No.” The smack obviously stiffening his revolt rather than subduing it, Hank sat up abruptly, his spine straight as a ruler, and glared at Steve with eyes that blazed like bonfires. “I’m not kneeling for you after you spanked me.” 

“That wasn’t a spanking.” Grimly, Steve grabbed Hank’s elbows and tugged him over his lap. As Hank’s legs flailed in an instinctual protest at being placed in this compromising position, Steve pressed one palm against Hank’s back to keep him in place for the duration of his punishment while the other slipped around his waist to unbutton and unzip Hank’s blue jeans, which he tugged down Hank’s wildly kicking legs to rest at his kneecaps, making it more of a challenge for Hank to jerk his legs up and down. Figuring that a spanking hurt enough and was embarrassing enough over boxers, Steve didn’t lower Hank’s and wasted no more time in administering a series of smoldering swats to Hank’s upturned backside. “This is a spanking.” 

“Fuck off.” Almost spitting with indignation, Hank’s hands flew back to protect his bottom from the blows. “You can’t do this to me, Stevie.” 

“I can.” Steve clutched Hank’s arms and pinned them under the palm that was holding Hank in place for the spanking. “It’s you who can’t curse at me.” 

“Fuck off,” Hank repeated, tone hot as hell-fire. 

“You need to learn to do what you’re told.” To drive this lesson into Hank’s hard head, Steve yanked down his boxers and hammered away at his bare behind. “When I tell you to turn off the TV, you do it. When I tell you to kneel for me, you do it. When I tell you to stop cursing at me, you do it.” 

Hank’s breathing was ragged and his flesh was beginning to burn Steve’s palm as he struck it, so, not wanting to be too harsh the first time he spanked Hank, Steve paused but kept his voice stern as he demanded, “Do you understand me?” 

He expected a shaky affirmation, but discovered a second later that he had underestimated the resoluteness of his rookie, who remained as silent as a stone. 

“Answer me,” snapped Steve, giving Hank’s rump a sharp whack. “If I ask you a question, you answer it, Hank.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Hank’s tone trembled enough that Steve understood why pride had prevented him from responding the first time he was asked. “I understand.” 

Unfortunately for both of them, Steve felt they still had a good deal to discuss before the spanking could come to an end. Hoping that Hank would start to cooperate so that the process didn’t have to be dragged out any longer than necessary, since this wasn’t going to one of the highlights of either of their lives, Steve continued, aiming at the tender under curves of Hank’s bottom which he had ignored previously, “If you can’t discipline yourself, Hank, then I’ll have to do it for you. You’re my rookie, and it’s my duty to keep you in line when you can’t control yourself. In practice, you weren’t working hard, and you weren’t focused on any off the drills. That’s completely unacceptable. You’ll work your butt off in practice unless you want me to beat it for you.” 

Staying his hand so that Hank could catch enough oxygen in his heaving lungs to reply, Steve asked, “Got it?” 

“Yes.” This word emerged from Hank’s lips as a whimper. 

“Good.” Steve delivered one last strong spank and then restored Hank’s boxers and jeans to their original location. “I’ll be here to remind you if you forget.” 

Gingerly Steve guided Hank into an upright position and reached out to hug Hank against his chest, but, far from seeking out the comfort as Steve had anticipated, Hank twisted away from his embrace. 

“Come on.” Steve wrapped an arm around Hank’s heaving shoulders. “You know I care about you, Hank.” 

“That’s funny.” Swiping at his eyes as if to wipe away the tears before they could do something so weak as fall, Hank sounded as if he had never found anything remotely amusing in his life. “In Sweden, people don’t hit someone they care about.” 

“I didn’t hit you; I spanked you, there’s a difference.” Wondering if he had made a mistake in spanking someone whose culture made it difficult to see the difference, Steve ruffled Hank’s hair with his free hand. “In North America, sometimes people spank somebody they love because they love them, and then to make it clear just how much they love that person, they give them a hug when the spanking is over.” 

Hank, still mopping his eyes, considered this for a few seconds, and then muttered, cheeks flaming like fireworks, “Since you already spanked me, I guess you can hug me too, Stevie.” 

“You’re my rookie, Hank.” Steve drew Hank tight against his chest and was relieved to feel Hank relax against him. “I’ll always be there for you, whether or not you want me to be.” 

Hank’s breath was slowing back to normal as he admitted with a sheepish grin, “Most of the time I want you to be there.” 

“Me too, although there are times when you could try the patience of a saint, which I’m not,” commented Steve dryly, brushing a lock of hair away from Hank’s forehead. “Are you ready to kneel for me now?” 

Finally compliant now that his iron will had been melted in the fire Steve had ignited in his backside, Hank sank to the floor and knelt before Steve. 

Curling his finger around the shell of Hank’s ear, Steve offered a wry nod of approval. “There you go, Z. Was that really so terrible it was worth waging World War III with me?” 

“I hate kneeling sometimes.” Hank tore at the carpet with his fingers. 

“I know.” Steve squeezed the nape of Hank’s neck in a gesture both admonishing and affectionate. “It’s when you hate kneeling that you need it the most, though, because that’s when you learn the most important lessons. What important lessons did you learn tonight?” 

“To do what you tell me when you say so.” Hank bit his lip. “To stay focused. To work hard. To discipline myself so you don’t have to, because it will hurt more when you do it.” 

“Very good.” Steve emphasized this praise with a pat on the back. Then, reflecting that every rookie-veteran kneeling relationship was different, he added, “I won’t spank you again, Hank.”

“Really, Captain?” Hank’s expression lit up like a Christmas tree. 

“Wipe that smile off your face,” chided Steve. “From now on, whenever you get stubborn like you did today and refuse to kneel for me, instead of spanking you, I’ll make you kneel on the tiles in the bathroom.” 

“Couldn’t you use thumbscrews on me instead?” Hank winced. “That would probably be less painful.” 

“It’s a punishment.” Steve couldn’t stop a smirk from trailing across his features. “It’s supposed to be painful to persuade someone as headstrong as you to behave in the future, Z.” 

“Do I have to kneel in the bathroom now?” Burrowing his face into what remained of Steve’s knee, Hank spoke words that were as muffled as if he had stuffed a sock into his mouth. 

“No, I’ve already spanked you, and you aren’t having any trouble submitting to me right now.” Steve clapped Hank’s shoulder. “I think I’ve persuaded you to behave for awhile. Any further punishment would just be overkill.”

“One day, I hope to be as persuasive as you.” Somewhere between sardonic and serious, Hank gazed up at Steve. “At everything, Captain.” 

“I have no doubt you will be some day.” Steve’s face softened into a smile. “You’re stubborn enough to be.”


End file.
